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"My Mother's Grave; 

OR, 

ONE BITTER RECOLLECTION 

OF 

Childish Ingratitude to My Sick Mother," 

AND 

BY y 

JOHN FRA.NCIS YANPELT NEIL. 



l^trtfii.^ \ ^ ^ 



CHARLESTON, W. VA: 

R. W. Vandale ct Company, No. 41 Capitol Street. 

1890. 



^x> 

.\\>^ 



Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1890, 

By JOHN FRANCIS VANPELT NEIL, 
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Wash- 
ington, D. C. 
All Rights Reserved. 



PREFACE. 



As it is customary for an author to write a 
preface ta his work, assigning his reason ior 
publishing and the object ol the book pub- 
Jished, I will offer some prefatory thoughts 
concerning the publication of this little vol- 
ume. 

All who have read The Unexpected Visit- 
or, (a Poetical Work published by me,) will 
remember that I gave as a reason for publish- 
ing that book, that I was fully convinced that 
God had given me poetical talent ; and that 
he requires me to cultivate it. 

That talent may never rank among the great 
poetical minds of ancient times, yet if I im- 
prove it, I shall accomplish more for the glory 
of God, than those endued with talent com- 



iv Preface. 

petent to go "forth fearlessly upon the face of 
the mighty deep, to survey the nations of the 
earth, to measure the distance of the stars, 
and call them by their names," provided they 
call God a hard Master, and bury their talents 
in the earth ; because the brightest intellect 
unimproved, is like a flower "born to blush 
unseen," and the brightest thoughts unuttered, 
are good for nothing; they are like diamonds 
undiscovered. 

Therefore, knowing my duty, and being as- 
sured that for all my actions here, God will 
bring me into judgment, I would heed the 
Divine injunction, *• Whatsoever thv hand find- 
eth to do, do it with thy might ; lor there is 
no work, nor device, nor wisdom in the grave 
whither thou goest ; and he that knoweth his 
Master's will, and doeth it not, shall be beaten 
with many stripes." 

As regards the grammatical, the rhetorical, 
and the metrical construction of this work, 
"it may not receive the applause of the world 
for elegance of language, or beauty of imagi- 
nation ;" but I have endeavored to arrange 
the words, and punctuate the sentences, so as 
to convey fully the meaning intended. 

As regards the metrical construction, I have 



Preface. v 

written the verses with reference to a certain 
number of syllables to the line ; thus : 

8, 8 constituting Long Measure ; 

8, 6, Common Measure, and 

6, 6, 8, Short Measure. 

As to rhyme, the verses may not all be per- 
fect, but perfect rhyme does not always consti- 
tute real poetry. Hence, when words of similar 
sound conveying some meaning, can not be 
obtained, it is better to insert other words, 
regardless of rhyme, which express meaning 
and truth as well as poetry. 

Having given this brief explanation, and 
one reason for publishing, I would also say 
that "it is natural for man to indulge in the 
illusions of hope," that he will derive some 
pecuniary remuneration for his production : 
but should I be so unfortunate as not to re- 
ceive cost of publishing, I will have the con- 
solation to know that I, «^ least to some extent^ 
have done my duty. Kespectfuily submitted 
to the candid and impartial perusal of an in- 
telligent people. 



ALPHABETICAL INDEX TO SUBJECTS, 



PAGE. 



"My Mother's Grave ; or, Oae Bitter Kec- 
ollection of Childish Ingratitute to 

My Sick Mother." 1 

A Father's Lamentation and Consolation. 9 

A Mother's Lamentation 10 

"Behold the Lamb of God That Taketh 

Away the Sin of the World." 12 

"Behold, I Stand at the Door and Knock." 15 
"Come, See the Place Where the Lord 

Lay."...: 20 

Death Kepresented as an Impartial, Un- 
merciful, Universal King 22 

Go, Preach the Lord of Glory 25 

His Excellency's Advice to Young Men . . 26 

I Have a Crown , . 27 

"Jesus Christ, the Same Yesterday, To- 
dav, and Forever." ". 28 



Index. vii 
Page. 

Life Represented as the Fair Queen of 

Earth, Air, and Sea 30 

My Own Prayer 32 

"Restore unto me the Joy of Thy Free 

Salvation." 33 

Shall I ever Forget Jesus ? 34 

The Prayer of the Dying Thief 35 

The Little Blind Boy's Lamentation and 

Consolation 38 

The Alphabetical Cross , 40 

The Dreadful Consequence of Drunken- 
ness 41 

True Greatness 44 

The Second Coming of Christ. 46 

Vain Man, Stop and Think 47 




My Mother's Grave; 



or, 

ONE BITTER RECOLLECTION OF CHILDISH INGRATI- 
TUDE TO MY SICK MOTHER. 



"Written from an Incident Related in McGuffey's Fourth 
Reader. 



See page 253 (Revised Edition). 



1 ''Many loDg years have passed away, 
Since my kind mother ceased to speak ; 

But I shall ne'er forget the day. 

When I last gazed on her pale cheek. 

2 "Hence, my heart since those mournful hours, 

Has been filled with the deepest gloom ; 
For all of Fancy's sweetest flowers, 
Withered on that kind mother's tomb. 



2 . My Mother* s Grave ; 

3 "My childish years have passed away, 
And with them, all my youthful traits ; 

I spend no more 'the live long day,' 

With my happy, thoughtless playmates. 

4 "The world has altered greatly, too, 
Filling my heart with many cares ; 

Alas! I know not what to do, 

For these seem more than I can bear. 

5 "My troubles are daily renewed, 

I seeks no more youth's sweet pursuits ; 
Sown the seed of Ingratitude, 
I now reap its most bitter fruits. 

6 "And when I stood with weeping eyes, 
Viewing her grave (oh! solemn truth), 

I could yet hardly realize 
That I was that same thoughtless youth 

7 "Who in the pleasant days of yore. 
Had spent so many happy hours. 

About my mother's parlor door. 

Making fair wreaths of blushing flowers. 

8 "And though for thirteen lonely years, 
I had been a care-worn Exile, 

Yet none could wipe away my tears. 
Nor erase that kind mother's smile. 



Or, One Bitter Recollection. 

9 "It seems to me but yesterday, 
Since I heard that most gentle voice 

Which oft drove all my fears away, 
And made my youthful heart rejoice. 

10 "Her voice still ringeth in my ears. 
Plainly as the church-going bell ; 

I still behold her flowing tears, 
And sadly hear her last farewell ! 

11 "The gay dreams of my infancy. 
Are brought so distinctly to mind, 

That it seems that it cannot be. 
That I was ever so unkind. 

12 "And if 'twere not for one sad thought, 
My tears would bid my grief depart; 

But ah ! 'the worm that dieth not,' 
Still lurketh in my care-worn heart. 

13 "The circumstance, to tell it all. 
May not seem worthy of one tear ; 

But ah ! its mem'ry bitter as gall, 
Pierces my heart as with a spear ! 

14 "And I relate it for the good 
Of those who have a better lot, 

That they may learn in their childhood, 
To love their parents as they ought. 



4 My Mother's Grave ; 

15 "My mother had been quite unwell 
For many days, yea, even weeks; 

But I, (though solemn truth to tell), 
Was not frightened at her pale cheeks. 

16 " 'Tis true, I sorely grieved at first. 
While her weak voice rang in my ears ; 

It seemed as if my heart would burst, 
And that my eyes were founts of tears. 

17 " But, finding her the same each day, 
I ceased to weep so bitterly, 

Thinking that she would live for aye. 
And ever smile and comfort me. 

18 " But, ah! they whispered in my ears, 
That death would soon blight all my hopes 

That I, ere locg, with bitter tears, 
Would gaze on my mother a corpse I 

19 " One day when I had lost my place, 
I came home discouraged and sad ; 

And with an angry, pouting face, 
I went to my sick mother's bed ! 

20 " But she was then almost as pale 
As if laid in death's cold embrace; 

But still that same heart-cheering smile 
Was playing on her care-worn lace. 



Or, One Bitter Recollection. 5 

21 ^^Alas ! when I am all alone, 
And now think how I acted then, 

My heart must have been hard as stone, 
Or ' twould have been rent all in twain. 

22 "For when so near the grave's dark brink, 
She bade me go down stairs and bring 

Her a glass of water to drink, 
Fresh from the well, or flowing spring. 

23 " But I said, ' Why do you not ask 
One of the servants of low rank, ' 

As if it were a grievous task 
To bring my sick mother a drink ! 

24 " But with a mild, reproachful look, 
She said, ' Will not my daughter bring 

Her poor, sick mother one more drink 
Fresh from the well, or flowing spring?" 

25 " I went — but most reluctantly, 
Unmoved by all her sighs and tears, 

As if it were a burden for me 
To bring a glass of water up stairs. 



Nor forget that mild look for aye, 
Y/hich followed me to the stair door, 
And haunts me even to this day ! 



6 My Mother s Grave; 

27 " Why were my eyes not founts of tears, 
And oh ! why did my heart not burst, 

Sicce I went so slowly down stairs, 
To bring water to quench her thirst? ! 

28 " Instead of smiling as before, 
Which always made her heart rejoice, 

I hurried out at the stair door, 
Regardless of her feeble voice ! 

29 ''And in spite of all that she said, 
I played awhile with some delight ; 

And then went thoughtlessly to bed, 
Not bidding her a kind good-night! 

30 "But when amid the night's deep gloom 
And silence, I remembered well 

How I left my sick mother's room. 
When she was so feeble and pale ; 

31 " How her voice trembled when she said, 
' Will not my daughter, once so frank, 

Now bring me on my dying bed, 
Another cool, refreshing drink?' 

32 " I could not for one moment sleep, 
My heart was so o'erw helmed with grief; 

So I did there in silence weep, 
Yet all my tears gave no relief! 



Or, One Bitter Recollection. 

33 " I stole back to mv mother's bed, 
To ask forgiveness, but in vain ; 

For she was asleep, and they said, 
I must not awaken her then ! 

34 " I did not tell to any one 

What eo disturbed my once calm rest; 
But wept with grief before unknown. 
Yet none could cheer my aching breast. 

35 "I went to bed, resolved to rise 
Early with blighted hopes renewed. 

And tell her how sorry I was 
For my childish ingratitude ! 

36 ^'When I awoke, the golden sun 
Was shining all about my room ; 

But I knew not that that dear one 

Was then straightened for the dark tomb ! 

37 "So I then hurried on my clothes, 
And hastened to my mother's bed ; 

But with sorrow God only knows, 
I found that she, alas ! was dead ! 

38 "That mother spoke to me no more — 
She never smiled on me again ; 

And when I entered her room door, 

It seemed mv heart would rend in twain ! 



8 

39 "And when I touched with achinfg heart, 
The hand that had oft brought relief, 

It was so cold it made me start, 
Filling my cup of bitter grief ! 

40 ''I then bowed down with many sighs. 
My whole heart filled with deepest gloom ; 

I then wished that I, too, might die, 
And lie with her in the same tomb ! 

41 "And even to this very day, 

I would give worlds, their wealth include. 
If I could hear my mother say 
She forgave my ingratitude ! 

42 "But I can never call her back 
From the cold, silent earth beneath ; 

Hence my tears shall not wholly slack, 
Till I cross the dark river Death ! 

43 "And when beside her lifeless clay. 
And of her loving kindness think, 

It seems I still can hear her say 

'Ah ! will you not bring me a drink ? ! ' 

44 "The mem'ry of that last mild look, 
Bites like a deadly serpent king: ; 

And the last loving words she spoke. 
Sting like venomous adders sting ! 



Ob, One Bitter Recollection. [ 

CONCLUSION : 

45 "Children, would you not shed such tears 
As fell on that kind mother's tomb? 

Rring; not your parents' silver hairs 
With grief to their eternal home !" 



A Father's Lamentation and Gonsolation- 

An Acrostic. 
^ 8, 8. 

1 ''God, in His wisdom, has removed 
Earth's brightest jewel from my crown. 

Only that it may shine above, 
Respendently around His throne. 

2 "Gone to the realms of perfect bliss, 
I know thou canst not come to me, 

As thou art now 'where Jesus is,' 
But I, ere long, can go lo thee. 



3 "Earth must now be a cheerless place, 
Lo ! all her sweetest charms have fled. 

Leaving such sorrow in my heart. 
E'en life is a burden indeed. 

4 "Could I but see thy face once more. 
Or hear thee in thy innocent glee. 

Playing near my row lonely door. 
Earth would give back her charms to me. 



10 My Mother's Grave; 

5 ''Near yonder weeping willow tree, 
How calm is now thy last repose — 

Aelef^p in Jesus, oh ! how sweet, 
Victorious o'tr the last of foes. 

6 "Enrobed in garments, clean and white, 
Redeemed through Jesus' precious blood, 

Thy soul now rests both d^y and night, 
In the fair paradise of God. 

7 "So then, not dead, but gone to wear 
A shining crown in Heaven above — 

No more to need a father's care, 
Neither a mother's tender love. 

8 "May this all cheering thought constrain 
Our hearts to say, 'Thy will be done ;' 

For we shall shortly meet again, 

And parting shall no more be known. 



A Mother's Lamentation. 8, 8. 

1 "Alas ! how empty earth appears. 
How dark is the whole vacant space ; 

And oil ! how bitter are the tears 

That trickle down my care worn face. 

2 "How cheerless are the fairest flowers — 
All their sweetness seems to have fled ; 



Or, One Bitter Recollection. 11 

How sad aad lonely are my hours, 
Yea, life is a burden indeed ! 

3 "E'en the bird that most sweetly sings, 
Affords no music for my ear ; 

For my heart bleeds from sorrow's stings. 
And no soul-healiT3g balm is near! 

4 "The stars that once so brightly shone. 
Now seem all wrapped in deepest gloom. 

While I mournfully sit alone 
Beside a dark and silent tomb ! 

5 "The golden Sun, even at noon, 
Shines dimly on the earth beueath; 

And the rays of the silver moon, 
Are pale as the shadows of death ! 

6 "For he who oft has calmed my fears. 
And bidden storms of sorrow cease, 

Has left this gloomy vale of tears, 
To reign with the great King of Peace. 

7 "And three of my dear children, too, 
Have gone to that world, bright and fair ; 

Then, what — alas ! what shall I do, 
For this seems more than I can bear?! 

8 "But then, I do not weep as those 
Who have not chosen 'that good part ;' 



12 My Mother's Grave; 

Yet none but a kind mother knows 
The feelings of my aching heart. 

9 "For death has laid his icy arms 
On one who was so near and dear, 

That this great world, with all its charms, 
Can not remove one bitter tear ! 

10 "Yea, my sorrow is now so deep. 
That all my tears give no relief ; 

So then, I must most sadly weep. 
Till God shall take away my grief. 

11 "Therefore, ye unlocked wheels of time, 
Koll on, oh! roll most swiftly on. 

And bear me to that sunny clime, 
Where sorrow shall no more be known ! 

12 "Farewell ! but it is hard to say, 
Though thou hast gone to thy reward ; 

And He that gave, hath tak'n away. 
So praised be the name of the Lord." 

"Behold the Lamb of God that taketh away 

THE Sin of the World." 
An Acrostic. 8, 8. 

1 ^Behold the precious Lamb of God 
Expiring on the shameful tree ; 



Or, One Bitter Recollection. 13 

How willingly He sheds His blood 
On that all rugged cross for me. 

2 Lo ! darkness fills the earth beneath, 
Devils exclaim, 'Thou Holy One ;" 

The great rocks rend, the ear of death 
Hearkens to Jesus, dying groans ! 

3 Exposed between two noted thieves, 
Laughed at while weeping tears of blood ; 

Ah ! hear Him cry in all His grief, 
''My God, my God, my God, my God !" 

4 Behold how wondrously He weeps 
O'er those who mock His dying groan ; 

Father, why does thy vengeance sleep — 
Great God, dost Thou not hear Thy Son ? 

5 Oh ! yes ; but if Thou heed His gro^^n, 
Death will then reign o'er hill and vale ; 

The whole known world, from Zone to Zone, 
Hover around a gaping hell ! 

6 Alas ! He thirsts, and some then start 
To ans?7er scornfully His call, 

Taking as a balm for His heart. 
Aloes all mixed with bitter gall ! 

7 King of all kings, and Lord of lords, 
Ent'ring death's cold and gloomy vale, 



14 My Mother's Grave; 

To make Thy Father's changeless words 
Honor'ble and save man from hell. 

8 All bruised, He cries in solemn tone, 
''Why dost Thou not regard my cries ? 

All Thou demandest I have done, 
Yea, made myself a sacrifice !'' 

9 Then rends the mighty temple's vail — 
Hark ! the Sun hides his brilliant face ; 

Even the very damned in hell, 
Shudder at such amazing grace! 

10 Infinite justice dipped in blood — 
Ne'er did such mercy interpose ; 

Oh ! hear the weeping Son of God, 
"Father, forgive my vilest foes !'' 

11 Then, dying. He loudly exclaims, 
"Heaven's justice is satisfied ; 

Eternal life, in crimson streams. 
Wells freely from my bleeding side !' 

12 Oh ! roll, ye healing waters, roll, 
Rushing from the dear Son of God ; 

Let ev'ry sin sick, dying soul 
Drink from that all life giving flood ! 



Or, One Bitter Recollection. 15 

"Behold, I Stakd at the Doge, and Knock, 

ETC." 

First Part. An Acrostic. 

8,8. 

1 Behold, Jesus stands at the door, 
Exclaiming, '•''Let me cleanse thy sin;" 

He's knocking now — has knocked before. 
Oh! let the Lamb of God come in. 

2 Lo ! mercy far beyond degree, 
Dripping with His own precious blood, 

Is stretching forth her arms to thee. 
Showing the wondrous love of God. 

3 Thrust ev'ry idol from thy breast, 
Admit a friend unknown before ; 

Never did so worthy a guest 

Demand admittance at thy door. 

4 Ah ! dost thou ask, '• Why entertain 
This One" to thee before unknown? 

Turn thou to that all lonely plain — 
Hear there His all heart-rending groan. 

5 Erasing thy enormous debt. 
Denied relief by ev'ry one ; - 

Oh! view the drops of bloody sweat 
Oozing from God's all lovely Son ! 



16 My Mother's Grave; 

6 " Remove this cup," He cries three times- 
Alas ! will God regard His cries ? 

No ; if no others, thy own crimes 
Demand that he should bleed and die. 

7 King of all kings, and Lord of lords, 
Nearing the cross of rugged wood ; 

Oh ! view His foes with naked swords. 
Come clam'ring for His precious blood ! 



8 " Kneel Thou to us, and prophesy," 
Cried all those thirsting for his blood ; 

" Fulfill Thy mission from on high, 
Ah ! Thou pretended ISon of God ! 

9 " Now, for a scepter, take this reed," 
They all cried out in scornful tone ; 

^^ Let thorns crown the Deceiver's head. 
And let the great cross be His throne !" 

10 By all His tears, and scoff's, and scorns, 
He ever knocks at thy heart's door ; 

Then, oh ! think of the piercing thorns. 
And grieve His dying love no more. 

11 With bleeding hands. He gently knocks, 
And bids thee let Him enter in ; 

Wilt thou be harder than the rocks 
Which His great suff^'rings rent in twain ? 



Or, One Bitter Recollection. 17 

12 See His foot-priats in Hi«? own blood, 
E'en all about thy sin-locked door; 

Oh ! admit now the Son of God, 

Lest He should kindly knock no more I 



I Hear the Voice of the Son op God, and I 
Will Open the Door. 

Second Part. 8, 8. 

1 I hear the weeping Son of God, 
"Father, why hast Thou frowned on me ? 

Alas ! is my own precious blood 
No more than filthy rags to Thee ? 

2 "Yea, seest Thou not Thy Holy One 
Making himself a sacrifice ? 

Ah ! view once more Thy only Son 
Nailed to the cross to bleed and die ! 

3 "Hearest Thou not my dyiog groans 
Echoing from the earth beneath? 

Ah ! seest Thou not the hardest stones 
Rending at my most shameful death ? 

4 "My voice will shortly cease to call 
You who cry, 'On ns be His blood ;' 

Vainly you'll cry, 'Ye mountains, fall 
On us who pierced the Son of God.' 



18 My Mother's Grave; 

5 "I oft have called you as a dove 
Calleth to her her helpless brocd ; 

Entreated you by dying love, 
And yet you clamor lor my blood !" 

6 Nature in darkness veils her face, 
Death retreats with his banner furled ; 

Oh ! was e'er such amazing grace 
Proffered to save a ruined world ? 

7 Enthroned as the great King of kings, 
No more to bleed at every pore ; 

Though He once felt death's piercing stings, 
He lives as God for ever more ! 

8 Enrobed no more in scarlet red, 
Death laughs no more to see Him weep 

O'er those for whom He groaned and bled 
On Calv'ry's cold, and rugged steep. 

9 ''Reject no more my living words, 
I am alive for ever more ; 

Written in characters of blood, 
I now stand knocking at the door!" 

I Will Sup with the Son of God To-day. 

Third Part. 8, 8. 

1 Lord, I would hearken now to Thee, 
Leet Thou should kindly knock no more ; 



Or, One Bitter Recollection. 19 

Come thou to-day and sup with me, 
Or death for aye may close the door ! 

2 My crimes are as the grains of sand, 
Even as the sand of the sea ; 

1 would bring in my sinful hand, 
Naught but that Thou hast died for me. 

3 Thou Son of God, Thou Prince of Grace, 
O ! Thou who art now so benign. 

How canst Thou make Thy dwelling place 
In such a sinful heart as mine ? ! 

4 My sins is all I oifer Thee, 

And they are of the darkest caste ; 
Now Thou wilt come, and sup with me. 
Denied so long to be my guest ! 

5 Why then should any hunger still, 
Infinite Goodness spreads the feast? 

Lo ! He cries, "Whosoever will, 

Let him come now a welcome guest ! 

6 "Stay not in all the barren plain, 
Until this feast is spread no more — 

Press to the fields of living green. 

While I stand knocking at the door !" 

7 Invited by the Son of God, 

To eat, and never hunger more, 



20 My Mother's Gra.ve; 

He cries in words written in blood, 

"How canst Thou drive me from the door ? 

8 "Infinite Goodness dipped in blood, 
Mercy and Grace beyond degree ! 

All these with all the love of God, 
Now bid thee hearken unto me. 

9 "Death heard my all heart-rending groans, 
Hell trembled to the very base; 

Even the very hardest stones 

Were rent at such amazing grace ! 

10 "If death could hear, and hell could move. 
The mighty temple rend in twain, 

How canst thou still reject my love — 
Must I still plead with thee in vain ? ! " 

11 Eternal life He ofi'ers thee, 
Purchased with his own precious blood ; 

Then, oh ! wilt thou not come to day. 
And sup with the dear Son of God ? 

"Come, See the Place Where the Lord lay." 

An Acrostic. 8, 8. 

1 Come, see the place where Jesus lay, 
On whom ♦hy hopes of Heaven depend ; 



Or, One Bitter Recollection. 21 

Make Him thy dearest friend to-day, 
Ere He refuse to be thy friend ! 

2 See Him all bruised and stained with blood. 
Entombed in a new tomb of stone ; 

Enter thou near the son of God 
That trod the great wine-press alone ! 

3 Hold up the bloody winding sheet, 
Enveloping thy only hopes ; 

Pull back the napkin, view His face- 
Look on the Son of God a corpse ! 

4 Ah ! ask thyself, "Why liest Thou here, 
Calm as if in a breathing sleep?" 

Engrave a bloody picture there, 

Which would almost cause saints to weep ! 

5 Hang that picture against the wall. 
Enclose it well by faith in God ; 

Remember that the Lord of all. 
Engraved His love in lines of blood ! 

6 Turn now from that all bloody scene. 
Hear the kind words, "I will forg;ive ;" 

Escape — ''Stay not in all the plain," 
Look to the Son of God, and live. 

7 Oh ! how that Sun, once set in blood, 
Rose up "with healing in His wings ;" 



22 My Mother's Grave; 

Died as a man, rose as a God, 
Living forever King of kings. 

8 All foes shall sink beneath His feet. 
Yea, death's dark banner shall be furled ; 

He is the only Potentate, 

And dreadful Judge of all the world ! 

Death Espresevied as an Impartial, Un- 
merciful, Universal King. 

8,8. 

1 O! death, thou dread, impartial king 
That regardest not beauty's charms ; 

Who does not dread thy piercing sting, 
And shrink beneath thy icy arms ? 

2 The beasts and the fowls of the air, 
Would gladly fly away from thee; 

And thou the great king of Despair, 
Art dreaded in the rolling sea ! 

3 E'en he who has so bravely fought 
With bleeding limbs and languid breath, 

Trembles e'en at the piercing thought 
Of thy dreadful approach, O ! death ! 

4 Even the scoffing Infidel 
Trembles beneath thy piercing dart ; 

Yea, none except the lost in hell, 
Can meet thee with a joyful heart ! 



Or, One Bitter Recollection. 23 

5 Yea. He by whom all things were made, 

So r 1 eaded to encounter thee, 
That He most beseechingly prayed, 

" Father, remove this cup from me ! ' 

6' But thou didst not regard the prayers, 
Offered by the dear Son of God ; 

But thou whilst laughing at His tears, 
Didst smite Him with an iron rod ! 

7 Thou laughest at honor and fame, 
Neither canst thou be bribed with gold ; 

Thou killest the poor, blind and lame. 
And the young as well as the old ! 

8 Thou dost not regard sex nor size. 
Hence, thou hast unlimited rule ; 

And thou who fav'rest not the wise, 
Showest no mercy to the fool ! 

9 The coward as well as the brave. 
Must also soon encounter thee ; 

But thou wilt crush him to the grave, 
And proudly exclaim, " Victory." 

10 The care-worn father's silver hairs 
Can not stay thy most piercing dart ; 

JNor can the mother's bitter tears 
Melt to pity thy iron heart ! 



24 My Mother's Grave; 

11 Thou sitest upon thv dark throne, 
The g;rim monster of land and sea; 

Even the babe's heart- rendins; groans 
Are sneeiingly laughed at by thee ! 

12 Hence, nothing mortal can withstand 
Thy great and undisputed power; 

And thy all cold, relentless hand 
Grasps many mortals ev'ry hour ! 

13 But then thou wouldst most surely be 
Welcome where those damned spirits dwell ; 

Yea, there would be a jubilee, 
If thou couldst only enter hell ! 

14 But thou canst never enter there, 
For Jesus Christ now holds the keys; 

So, thou the great king of Despair, 
Canst only rule earth, air and seas. 

15 And thou shalt not forever reign, 
Thou great foe of peasant and king ; 

For He who once was bruised and slain. 
Will take from thee thy piercing sting. 

16 He once conquered thee all alone. 
And rose triumphant from the grave ; 

Then ascended " the great, white throne. 
Strong to rescue, mighty to save !'' 



Or, One Bitter Recollection. 25 

Go, Preach the Lord op Glory. 7, 6. 

1 Go, preach the Lord of glory 
To earth's remotest clime, 

Till all shall hear the story 
Of His dear cross sublime. 

2 Tell them of Calv'ry's mountain, 
On which He groaned and died ; 

And of the healing fountain 
That gushed forth from His side. 

3 For time is swiftly flying, 
The harvest fields are white ; 

And precious souls are dying 
For want of gospel light ! 

4 Take ye the Spirit's saber. 
And faith's victorious shield ; 

For there are few that labor 
In this great harvest field. 

5 Unfold "the blood stained banner," 
Even from Zone to Zone, 

That all may see "what manner 
Of love" the Lord has shown. 

6 Because, without a preacher, 
How shall the news be heard, 



26 My Mother's Grave; 

That Christ saves ev'ry creature 
That trusts His sacred word ? 



His Excellency's Advice to Young Men. 
An Acrostic. 8, 8. 

1 "Be honest, ! thou blooming youth, 
Ever aspire to acts divine — 

Never forget this sacred truth : 
Judgement-will be laid to the line. 

2 "Abstain from vain and idle words, 
Make godliness thy greatest care ; 

In all thou dost, honor the Lord — 
Never forsake the house of prayer. 

3 "Hearken not to the Tempter's call. 
Always cleave to that which is good ; 

Remember that the Lord of all 

Redeemed thee with His precious blood ! 

4 "In ev'ry act as well as word, 
Stand by the 'Golden Rule' alone; 

On this, hangs all the law of God — 
Not words, but deeds shall win the crown.'* 



Or, One Bitter Recollection. 27 

I Have a Ckown. 7, 6. 

1 I have a crown of glory, 
III that bright world above, 

Where I shall sing the story 
Of Jesus' dying love. 

2 And there shall no temptation, 
My happy soul annoy ; 

But songs of free salvation, 
Shall be my sweet employ. 

3 There shall be no to morrow. 
But one eternal day ; 

And sickness, pain and sorrow. 
Shall then have passed away. 

4 And ghastly death shall never 
Confine me in the tomb ; 

But I shall live forever. 
Where fadeless flowers bloom. 

5 And I no more shall sever 
From loved ones gone before; 

But live with them forever, 
Where tears shall be no more. 



28 My Mother's Grave; 

"Jesus Christ the Same Yesterday, To Day, 

AND Forever." 
An Acrostic. 8, 8. 

1 When tossed on life's pH rug;ged sea. 
When dark clouds veil my moral sky ; 

When dearest friends would frown on me, 
To whom can I for refuge fly ? 

2 Jesus the star that ne'er grows dark. 
E'en though all others cease to shine ; 

Safe guide for my storm beaten bark, 
Unchangeable, and all divine. 

3 Strong to rescue, mighty to save. 
Compassionate beyond degree. 

He stands beside the rolling wave, 
Ready to smile, and comfort me. 

4 In Him does all the God-head dwell. 
Sovereign of Heaven, earth and sea; 

The everlasting gates of hell 
Tremble at His great majesty ! 

5 He changes not for wealth or fame. 
E'en for the gold of millionaires. 

Sweet thought. He is ever the same. 
And hearkens even to 7ny prayers. 



Or, One Bitter Recollection. 29 

6 Man may for sake of gain, betray- 
Even the friend he long has known ; 

Yea, he may most shamefully slay 
Even his once all loving son ! 

7 So, we see fathers may deny, 
That even long tried friends betray, 

Except the Lord of earth and sky. 
Remains unchanged from day to day. 

8 Darkness shall veil the golden Sun, 
All nature shall be wrapped in flames ; 

Yet, Jesus, God's Anointed One, 
To-day and forever the same. 

9 On Him then, I'll depend e'er more, 
Deliverer from ev'ry snare ; 

All others fail at death's dark door, 
Yet Jesus wiil be with me there. 

10 And when I shall have crossed the flood, 
Numbered with all the blood washed throng, 

Delightful thought, the love of God, 
Forevermore shall be my song. 

11 ! death, where then will be thy sting. 
Redeemed from all thy frightful power; 

Enthroned forever priest and King, J] 

Victorious forever more ? ! 



30 My Mothers Gra.ve; 

12 Eternal life, and all it meanp, 
Redeemed from all the woes of time, 

To walk on Heaven's golden plains. 
In that beautiful sun bright clime ! 

Life Represented as the Fair Queen op 
Earth, Air and Sea. 8, 8 • 

1 O ! Life, thou dearest of the dear, 
From whom no one would gladly part ; 

Thou fair queen of this mortal sphere, 
And chief concern of ev'ry heart. 

2 The beasts, and the fowls of the air 
Do most earnestly cling to thee ; 

And thou who art man's greatest care. 
Art welcome in the rolling sea. 

3 The bees that toil from flower to flower, 
Bearing "the burden and the heat," 

Cry out in the most trying hour, 

''0 1 life, thou yieldest many sweets." 

4 Yea, even ev'ry living thing 
Nourishes and cherishes thee ; 

In summer, fall, winter and spring, 
Thou art the queen of land and sea. 

5 Though Poverty with all her woes. 
May lurk about man's lonely door, 



Or, One Bit PER Recollection. 31 

Yet he greets not the king of foes, 
But still craves life, if nothing more. 

6 Though he may rule the great and small. 
And have all else that heart can crave, 

Yet he would gladly give it all, 

Could that but save him from the grave ! 

7 Although no sound from earth or skies. 
Should ever more attract his ear ; 

Yea, e'en pluck out his precious eyes. 
And life to him will still be dear ! 

8 Although the most loathsome disease 
May daily poison his life blood ; 

Yea, fanned by no health-giving breeze. 
He would not cross the chilly flood. 

9 Although he may be all care-worn. 
Yet life is still his chief concern ; 

Nor would he be borae to that bourn. 
Whence no one shall ever return ! 

10 Although he may have grown so old. 
That death must needs soon ead "the strife ;" 

Yet as the miser grasps his gold. 
He holds the brittle thread of life ! 

11 O ! life, if thou art here so sweet, 
What wilt thou be beyond the tomb. 



32 My Mother's Grave; 

Where many blood-washed saints shall meet 
Amid fair flowers of fadeless bloom ? 

12 Ah! then, why does man toil so hard 
To save this life of but few years, 

And to the next, pay no regard, 
But wade to hell through blood and tears ? 

13 Simply because the carnal mind 
Is ever *'enmity with God ;" 

Hence, this why he is inclined 
To follow after flesh and blood. 

My Own Prater. 

An Acrostic. 8, 8. 

1 Jesus, Thou mighty King of kings, 
O, save me by Thy precious blood ; 

Hide me beneath Thy snowy wings. 
Number me with the saints of God. 

2 For I am naked, poor and blind. 
Repentance is my only plea; 

Ah ! Thou who died for all mankind, 
Never let me depart from Thee. 

3 Clothe me in raiment, clean and white, 
I ask those riches from above : 

Self denial, faith, moral sight, 

Virtue, meekness, and unfeigned love. 



Or, One Bitter Recollection. 33 

4 Arm me well with the Spirit's sword, 
Nor let me from ^'the faith" depart; 

Perfected by Thy precious word, 
Engrave Thy image on my heart. 

5 Lead me across death's surging flood, 
To my long sought, eternal home ; 

Nor let me sink, but through Thy blood. 
Escape the dreadful wrath to come ! 

6 I will then cease that doleful song, 
*'Lo ! Salem's daughters weep around ;" 

But sing with all the blood washed throng, 
"I once was lost, now I'm found." 

"Restore Unto Me the Joy op Thy Fees Sal- 
vation." 8, 6. 

1 Great/ God, by Thy free Spirit's power, 
My drooping soul revive ; 

And even from this very hour, 
O ! make me all alive. 

2 O ! quicken my once ransomed heart, 
By power from above ; 

For Jesus' sake, to me impart 
My first and warmest love. 

3 For my peace could not be expressed, 
When I was wholly Thine ; 



34 My Mother's Grave; 

For ev'ry sorrow in my breast, 
Was soothed by grace divine. 

4 Then it was all my meat and drink 

To do Thy holy will ; 
And yet, oh ! how I love to think 

Of those sweet moments still. 

6 But now, where are those peaceful hours 

Which I so much enjoyed, 
When even all my ransomed powers 

Were in Thy praise employed ? 

6 So then, those peaceful hours restore, 

And bid me cease to pine ; 
And oh ! make me for ever more. 

Both soul and body Thine ! 

Shall I ever Forget Jesus ? 6, 6, 8. 

1 Oh I shall I ever be 
Forgetful of that Friend 

Whose suff'rings on the cross for me. 
Caused solid rocks to rend? 

2 Shall I ever forget 

The day He ceased to speak. 
When tears of grief and bloody sweat 
Streamed down His sacred cheek ? 



Or, One Bitter Recollection. 35 

3 Shall I forget the words, 
"My God, my God, my God," 

When his foes armed with naked sword?, 
Were clam'ring lor His blood ? 

4 Shall I forget the groans 
That rent the earth beneath ; 

Yea, even burst trie hardest stones. 
And broke the bars of death ? 

5 No ; let my tongue be dumb, 
My right arm cease to move. 

If I for e'en all time to come, 
Forget His dying love ! 

6 And let me cease to hear 

One sound from earth, or skies, 
If I forget the dying prayer 
Of my great Sacrifice ! 

7 Yea, let deep darkness fill 
The earth as with a flood, 

If I do not remember still 
The weeping Son of God ! 

The Pkayer of the Dying Thief. 8, 8. 

1 "Lord Jesus, Thou 'the Great I Am,' 
Thou great Physician of the soul. 



36 My Mother's Grave; 

O ! now apply the healing Balm, 
And make my wounded spirit whole ! 

2 "The Summer must needs shortly end ; 
Then, oh ! how urgent is my case ; 

Yea, all my future joys depend 
Even upon a moment's space ! 

3 "Therefore, Thou precious Lamb of God> 
Quickly remove my guilty stains ; 

For even now my vile heart's blood 
Is streaming from my sinful veins ! 

4 "My crimes are as the grains of sand, 
And darker than the darkest night ; 

But canst Thou not, by one command, 
Wash my dark robe, and make it white ? 

5 "Yea, of all sinners, I am chief, 

Yet, can not Thy most precious blood 
Save even a poor, dying thief 
From the fierce, unmixed wrath of God ? 

6 "Since Thou didst calm the raging sea, 
And bid the mighty winds be still, 

Oh ! canst Thou not save even me 
From the doleful regions of hell ? 

7 "Since Thou didst ease the aching head, 
And quickly make the wounded whole ; 



Or, One Bitter Recollection. 37 

Yea, even raise the ghastly dead, 

Canst Thou not save my precious soul ? 

8 "Oh ! yes ; Thou art mighty to save. 
In Thee does all the God-head dwell ; 

Yea, Thou canst burst the cold, dark grave. 
And shut the very gates of hell ? 

9 "Yes, I will wash thy sins away 
Without money, and without price ; 

And even thou this very day, 
Shalt be with me in Paradise !" 

10 Oh I what free, condescending love — 
Well might rend the great temple's vail ; 

Well might the fair heavens above 
Grow dark as the chambers of hell ! 

11 Well might the great earth quake beneath, 
And well might rend the hardest stones ; 

Yea, well might the '-cold ear of death" 
Hearken to Jesus' dying groans ! 

12 But let not this most wondrous case 
So flatter any precious soul, 

As to trifle with God's free grace, 
Till death's cold #aves begin to roll ! 

13 For "now is the accepted time," 
And all the world to day may gain 



38 My Mother's Grave; 

A home in that fair, sunny clime, 

Free from all trouble, grief, and pain ! 

14 Although, one when near death's embrace, 
Was sav^ed through Jesus' precious blood, 

It only proves that sovereign grace 
Can make the vilest heirs of God. 

15 For had Christ not inclined His ear, 
Though death's cold sweat streamed down 

His face, 
Some would have good reason to fear 
That they surpass the power of grace ! 

16 So then, let no poor sinner doubt 
Christ's willingness and power to save, 

Since He would not cast that one out. 
Who was so vile, and near the grave ! 

The Little Blind Boy's Lamentation and 

Consolation— An Acrostic. 

8, 8. 

1 "Deep darkness fills this verdant earth, 
And all above is dark as night ; 

Verily, what is my life worth. 
If I no more shall gain^y sight ? ! 

2 "Dreary must be my sojourn here. 
Groping in gloom my way to find ; 



Or, One Bitter Recollection. S9 

Earth has no sweet charms for my ear — 
Oh ! pity ye, pity the blind ! 

3 "Roll on, ye unlocked wheels of time, 
Grave, in deep darkness, hide thou me ; 

Escort me to that sunny clime, 
And then these blinded eyes shall see ! 

4 "Life, thou hast lost thy sweetest charms, 
Death, thou art now a welcome guest ; 

Enclose my body in thy arms. 
Remove my soul to endless rest ! 

5 Saviour, more than this life to me, 
O ! wash me in Thy precious blood ; 

Never let me depart from Thee — 
Number me with the ssints of God ! 

6 " Enrobed in garments, clean and white, 
I'll sing no more with aching heart, 

* Lo ! all above is dark as night,' 
For I shall see Thee as Thou art. 

7 " Farewell ! father and mother dear. 
But oh ! weep not when I am gone ; 

On my cold grave, shed not a tear. 
Because you must all follow soon. 

8 " Farewell ! brothers and sisters all, 
To each other, ever be kind ; 



40 My Mother's Grate; 

Be ready at the Saviour's call, 
To meet the little boy that's blind ! 

9 " Plant not a weeping willow tree 
To mark my cold and silent tomb ; 

But let my grave iorever_be 
Covered with flowers of fairest bloom. 

10 '' Grim death, thy pangs shall soon be o'er, 
Thou dreaded foe of all mankind ; 

I'm going home to die no more, 
And I shall never more be blind. 

The Alphabetical Cross. 

8,8. 

1 Alas ! was Jesus as a lamb, 
Bruised, torn, and slain upon the tree ? 

Can it be that '^ The Great I Am " 
Died on the shameful cross for me ? 

2 Exposed between two noted thieves, 
Forsaken by e'en ev'ry one ; 

'• Great God," He cries in all His grief, 
'' How canst Thou now forsake Thy Son?" 

3 '' I have now met the law's demands, 
Justice is fully satisfied ; 

Kind Father, view my bleeding hands — 
Look Thou now at my gushing side ! 



Ok, One Bitter Recollection. 41 

4 ''My God, is this great sacrifice 
No more than filthy rags to Thee ? 

! now that fallen man may rise, 
Pour Thy most dreadful wrath on me !" 

5 Quake, ! thou earth to thy great base — 
Rend thou in twain, thou hardest stone ; 

Sun, veil thou now thy brilliant face, 
Turn into blood, thou pale faced moon ! 

6 Unloosed are Satan's strongest cords. 
Virtue has triumphed over Vice ; 

Written in characters of blood, 

''Xcelled by the Lord Jesus Christ." 

7 Yea, Death himself is bound in chains ; 
Zion's King sways the Victor's sword ; 

In all His majesty He reigns. 

King of all kings, and Lord of lords ! 

The Dreadful Consequence of Drunkenness. 

8, 8. 

1 "Wine is a mocker, and strong drink 
Is raging," and man's deadly foe ; 

For it sends crowds to ruin's brink, 
And many to eternal woe ! 

2 It seems at first to be a friend. 
But it is a foe in disguise ; 



42 My Mother's Grave; 

For it makes many kind hearts rend, 
And causes many weeping eyes. 

3 How many fathers' silver hairs 
Go with grief to the land of gloom ? 

How many mothers' bitter tears 
Fall on a son's untimely tomb ? 

4 How many kind sisters refuse 

To cease their watching at the doors, 
Till comes this most heart-rendering news : 
Your brother bleeds at many pores ? 

6 How many wives look at twilight 
For their husbands who go abroad ? 

But alas ! they come at mid-night, 
All bruised, and stained with their own 
blood ! 

6 And many never, never come. 
But still the deadly poison crave ; 

And oft away from friends and home, 
They go down to a drunkard's grave ! 

7 I heard of one who liked to sup 
Whisky which so brightened his hopes ; 

But soon that most enticing cup 
Made him a mangled, bleeding corpse ! 



Or, One Bitter Recollection. 43 

8 Now, his sad death was on this wise : 
He went one day from his abode ; 

Ard ruled by that foe in disguise, 
He soon lay down on the railroad ! 

9 As whisky had stolen his brain, 
He had no fears of hell beneath ; 

So he lay still till the great train 
Most shamefully crushed him to death ! 

10 Yea, it so bruised that bloated sot. 
Strewing his flesh about the place. 

That his dear comrades knew him not 
By looking at his mangled face ! 

1 1 Alas ! how sad it must have been 
To see him all covered with blood. 

And know that he, in all his sins. 
Must meet the great heart searching God ! 

1 2 Oh ! wretched consequence in deed ! 
Yet many crave that poison still, 

Which in this world, causes great need. 
Then buries the soul deep in hell ! 

13 Now, may this solemn story sink 
Deep into ev'ry husband's breast, 

That all may abstain from strong drink, 
And make their wives and children blest. 



44 My Mother's Grate; 

14 Young man, ehun that fo9 in disguise, 
Which likes to gain the world's applause ; 

For it causes redness of eyes. 
And bleeding " wounds without a cause !" 

15 Bring not thy father's silver hairs 
With sorrow to his final rest ; 

Wipe thou away thy mother's tears. 
And cheer thy sister's aching breast ! 

True Greatness. An Acrostic. 

8, 8. 

1 " What is true greatness I would ask ? 
Is beauty one component part ? 

Can fame and high honor surpass 
The actions of a moral heart? 

2 " Can those excel ' the Golden Rule,' 
Who read even the starry skies ? 

Has the Lord not chosen the fool 
To put to naught the would be wise ? 

3 " Was he who conquered land and sea, 
Great in the true sense of the word ? 

Would not one act of charity 
Have weighed more in the sight of God ? 

4 " Yes ; he who does the will of God, 
Is greater e'en by far than he 



Or, One Bitter Recollection. 45 

Who proudly wades througli human blood, 
And wins earth's greatest victory. 

5 " Can gold and silver compensate 
For even one immoral deed ? 

Was not the Greatest of the Great 
Denied a place to lay His head ? 

6 "Greatness consists in moral traits, 
Kegardless of riches untold. 

Or the highest honor of states — 
Virtue weighs more than worlds of gold. 

7 "Earth's brightest jewels cannot shine 
Eesplendently as moral deeds — 

Can never make man's thoughts divine, 
Let them come from the wisest heads. 

8 "Eternal Wisdom, give to me 
Virtue, meekness, and unfeigned love ; 

Engage my heart with praise to Thee, 
Let me be harmless as a dove. 

9 "As the world's destiny relies 

Not on my arm, but Thy ereat might, 
Direct me then, ! Thou All Wise, 
To guide this great nation aright. 

10 "Young man, aspire to acts divine, 

If thou wouldst true greatness display ; 



46 My Mother^s Grave. 

Ever hew to the moral line. 
And let the chips fall where they may." 

The Second Coming of Christ. 8, 8. 

1 I see the great Arch Angel stand 
On the deep sea, and on the shore ; 

Swearing with an up-lifted hand, 
That time, alas ! shall be no more. 

2 Then, looking towards the dark, blue sky, 
I see the Son of God appear ; 

The thunder. His great battle cry. 

And the lightning. His two edged spear! 

3 He cries, "Receive your speech, ye dumb. 
Ye mighty seas, become dry land ; 

For the great day of wrath is come, 
And who shall be able to stand ? I " 

4 Wielding the sharpest two edged sword, 
He burst the very graves beneath ; 

And 'neath the banner stained with blood, 
He conquers the grim monster Death ! 

5 The silver moon, the night's fair queen, 
Shall suddenly be turned to blood ; 

The very heavens, rend in twain, 
Because of the great wrath of God ! 



Ok, Ome Bitier Recollection. 47 

6 The golden sun, the day's great king, 
Shall then grow dark as death's dark vale, 

When Jesus' dreadful voice shall ring 
All through the very depths of hell ! 

7 The heavens shall melt from pole to pole, 
The earth shall burn as straw, or grass ; 

Then, oh ! where shall the guilty soul 
Fiy to obtain a hiding place ? 

8 For should it fly with lightning speed, 
Twould all still be without avail ; 

For God's fierce wrath must be its bed. 
Deep in the very gloom of hell ! 

Yain Man, Stop and Think. 

8, 6. 

1 Vain man, ere thou shalt further go, 
Stop and think, stop and think ; 

While streams of mercy freely flow, 
Stop and think, stop and think. 

2 Jesus now knocks at thy heart's door. 
And He has often knocked before ; 

But oh! lest He should knock no more, 
Stop and think, stop and think ! 

'6 For there is but one fleeting breath, 
Stop and think, stop and think, 



48 My Mother's Grave. 

Between thee and the gates of death, 
Stop and think, stop and think! 

4 And life at most, is but a dream, 

So thou must soon cross death's cold stream; 
Then there will be none to redeem, 
Stop and think, stop and think ! 

5 To God's fierce wrath thou art exposed, 
Stop and think, stop and think ; 

And mercy's door will soon be closed, 
Stop and think, stop and think. 

6 For God will not always invite," 

If thou dost His free mercy slight ; 
Then, ere the Spirit takes his flight, 
Stop and think, stop and think ! 

7 Or thou must sink to rise no more, 
Stop and think, stop and think. 

While Christ still knocks at thy heart's door, 
Stop and think, stop and think. 

8 Alas ! thy sufferings none can tell, 

If thou shalt with damned spirits dwell, 
Bathed in the surging flames of hell — 
Too late, too late to think ! 



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